


If Only He Hadn't Remembered

by lesgledemeaux



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drabble, Dysfunctional Relationships, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry Victor Hugo, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Piningjolras, Tumblr Prompt, don't hate me I'm sorry I accidentally made E seem like a great bag of dicks he's not though I swear, sort of piningjolras?, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesgledemeaux/pseuds/lesgledemeaux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble based on prompt: "reincarnation AU where Grantaire is actually well adjusted and has a lot of friends and laughs all the time and is really close to his parents but then he starts remembering and falls into this cycle of self hatred and alcohol and his friends and family are so confused because where’s Grantaire? Optimistic, carefree Grantaire? What happened? And then Enjolras comes into the picture and suddenly it’s so clear that he’s the reason and all Grantaire’s friends and family corner Enjolras when Grantaire’s not there and tell him off and while Enjolras is getting ranted at Grantaire’s loved ones paint this beautiful picture of a hopeful, loving, responsible Grantaire and Enjolras just completely shatters because if he’d just been a little nicer, just spent a little more time, maybe maybe Grantaire’s smile would still reach his eyes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only He Hadn't Remembered

Hopeful. Caring. Compassionate. Loving. Words his family and friends described him as- before Enjolras remembered. Before the nightmares started last year; nightmares of bloodshed and barricades, paving bricks and chaos. His parents said he’d once been responsible and loving- the man he currently knew was barely responsible enough to keep a plant alive. Joly and Bossuet said he’d been able to fill the room with warmth and joy before his cerulean eyes became icy, his smile bitter and mocking. Prouvaire had mentioned Grantaire once being passionate: his paintings once filled with vibrant colors and cheerful sketches, now his melancholy obvious through the dark paints and the only vibrance remaining on the canvases being deep, passionate red and brilliant gold. Red like the tailcoat he’d worn to Lamarque’s funeral, gold like the gleam of his hair despite the dirt and smoke filling the air. The only Grantaire he knew was the cold, empty shell of the man that once was. He just knew if he’d been a little kinder, spent a little more time talking to Grantaire rather than bickering with the skeptic so many years ago, he might’ve met the hopeful young Grantaire rather than the empty pessimist that remained. Every meeting, Grantaire had the same haunted blue eyes following him, that crooked, sardonic grin plastered on his otherwise emotionless face with every jab or comment towards Enjolras.

 

Enjolras assumed Grantaire had always been rather unattractive, with his hollowed cheeks, deadpan eyes, pallor, and lanky appearance- until he’d realized the always smiling dark haired man in a few of the pictures on Combeferre’s wall was him. The two of them had been friends through high school and a few years of college, before they all remembered- afterwards Combeferre and Grantaire avoided each other. But looking at the healthy, seemingly happy younger man with a mop of dark curls and warm eyes made Enjolras’ chest tight as he compared that to what was now Grantaire. He just knew a portion of why Grantaire turned to anything that’d numb him from the world was from their past lives. He was well aware that he could be terrible, but it never crossed his mind that it could be this sort of terrible- even if it was in his past life. Yet so long ago, Grantaire was still fiercely loyal, preferring to die by his side than to live without him and Enjolras had permitted it.

  
So Enjolras would apologize over and over again, hoping to find a way to make their relationship right. He’d try, he’d explain what he really meant in those last moments before they were blinded by the National Guardsmen’s’ guns as they let go of each other’s hands, Enjolras pinned to the wall and Grantaire at his feet. He’d explain his feelings, how he loved Grantaire(he did, didn’t he?) but the skeptic never listened. Enjolras asked, but Grantaire never permitted it.

* * *

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